


empty nesters

by studiojune



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Coming of Age, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Cute, Developing Relationship, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, High School sports, Keith (Voltron) Has a Crush, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Romance, Romantic Fluff, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Teen Romance, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/studiojune/pseuds/studiojune
Summary: When Keith gets roped into volunteering for the community garden by his school's vice principal, he had no idea it would include fighting off thirsty old ladies and stealing raccoons, let alone him running into the one and only Lance McClain— the boy he's been crushing on hard for years. Lance is the school's golden boy. Popular, smart, and one of their top athletes. Keith can barely even look at Lance without feeling like he was about to puke— how the hell is he going to survive the summer now?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	empty nesters

When the vice principal stuck him with 30 hours of community service as his punishment, Keith was ready for the grueling, numerous odd jobs he’d be forced to do throughout his summer vacation. This, on the other hand— he looks out at the small plots of land and raised beds and assemblage of old women— was fucking ridiculous. Somehow his guidance counselor convinced Mr. Nolan that assigning Keith to 30 hours of volunteer work at the community garden would be a better outlet for his ‘behavioral issues.’

_Right. Like that woman didn’t have it out for him already._

He’s supposed to be looking for someone named Claudia— apparently the manager and woman he’d be reporting to every morning. Keith passes a greyed hair woman in a sunhat that’s three times the size of her head, very pointedly avoids making eye contact with her staring, and hopes that whoever this Claudia was, would help him fight off the eyes burning a hole through his back. Why did he feel like he was about to get jumped by a bunch of 70 year olds?

It’s here in the brain melting, soul crushing, envelope of Midwestern suburbia where Keith finds himself, at the ripe age of seventeen, trapped in a place between tear jerking boredom and feigning a mental breakdown just so that the town would have something to talk about. He’d lived here his whole life, in the same house, in the same room, with the same neighbors, and same classmates for as long as he could remember. So yeah, Keith was bored. Bored as hell. Some would say that it was the lack of stimulation for the ever growing teenage mind that’s how he ended up here— an entire summer wasting away while he waited on the hand and foot of a bunch of grandmothers— in the first place.

He’s squatting down at one of the empty beds near the back when a high voice calls out to him.

“Oh hi there!” “Nolan did say he was sending someone new over, are you Keith?”

Keith looks up from his spot on the ground at a beaming older woman and his eyes widen just slightly— _okay, woah_. The sun is lighting the brim of her wide hat in a golden halo, her eyes are just as bright behind her glasses— she’s like some old Hispanic deity in chanclas. Suddenly, Keith finds himself standing a little straighter. Of all the senior citizens living in town, it had to be _her_.

“I’m Claudia, and I’m the one you’ll be assisting this summer!”

Keith remembers when she and her family moved into town that summer weekend six years ago. He could hear the moving van _coming in from down the street_ , a young woman blaring Selena from the front seat and yelling over the radio speakers in the attempt to sing along. Next to her, crammed in between his grandmother and another sibling, was a boy around Keith’s age singing along just as loud and looking ready to nearly climb out of the truck with excitement as he surveyed their small town. Even from across the street Keith could see just how wide his eyes were, a bright and blazing blue that matched the July afternoon sky— it made him curious, nervous almost, at the weird fluttering that settled in his little eleven year old chest. And thus, the McClain’s arrived— stirring up a whirlwind in Keith’s head from the moment he saw them.

Keith holds out a hand for her to shake. Tries to ignore that it feels a little sweaty. “Hi, nice to meet you ma’am. Thank you for letting me—”

How could he forget that Claudia was his grandmother. Keith swallows roughly and tries to avoid meeting the familiar blue of her eyes.

She cuts him off then, wrapping both her wrinkled hands around Keith’s one and makes Keith almost sink into her presence. Why did it feel like Keith was weak in the knees when it came to _any_ of the McClains—

“Of course, of course! I could really use the extra help around here,” she gives him an earnest grin and puts a hand on her hip, but Keith can’t help but think of the familiar brown curls that he’s been obsessed with— “Y’know these old bats drive me crazy.”

Keith surveys the open space with a nervous chuckle, has to look down a whole foot before meeting her eyes again. “Ah, ye-”

“Ay, you’re as tall as my grandson!” She exclaims and swats his arm playfully. The hand on his bicep turns into a slight squeeze. “And so strong!”

_Oh fucking fuck—_

Keith can barely get a word in before he’s choking over the lump in his throat, desperately trying not to embarrass himself in front of the grandmother of the kid he’s sat behind in class for years, the kid he’s been harboring a disgusting, lovesick high school _crush_ on since freshman year and maybe even before that, really, because it was _Lance_ fucking _McClain_ after all. And well, here’s the thing about Lance. Golden boy, star player, beautiful, charming Lance. He was the captain of their school’s soccer team, their top forward, a prodigy some would say, as he rose to the starting team within a semester of them starting as freshmen. He was popular with the girls, popular with the teachers, had a killer smile that could capture your breath in an instant, was super smart and could write book reports that brought Keith to tears and his locker was on the second floor even though Keith’s was on the first but he still went up there just at the chance he might run into him and—

And he had no clue Keith even existed.

Something about the boy just made Keith’s brain shut down at the mere sight of him, let alone he try to muster up enough brain cells to form anything other than a nervous _‘h-hey!’_ in his direction. Tried that once. Never again. He probably thought Keith was a psycho or something. Or trying to give him his answers to the chemistry homework. Or both.

And so, standing here in front of the dude’s grandma and trying not to shit himself— Keith declares that he’s in for the longest summer of his life— if the elderly don’t get to him first.

——

“Now here’s your apron,” She passes him a bundle of obnoxious green fabric. He assumes it’ll have the same matching graphic of a tomato and carrot on the front as Claudia’s. It’s not hideous enough to make him frown, but it definitely will never see the light of day outside of his closet after this. Great.

Claudia’s reading from her clipboard, voice serious and suddenly all business. Keith finds himself straightening up a little. “I’ll get your nametag to you tomorrow morning. I’ll need you here at 7 on Mondays and Wednesdays. We open later on the weekend, so no need to come in until around 9 on Fridays and Sundays, alright?”

Inwardly, Keith’s groaning— _so much for getting to sleep in this summer_.

“And make sure you wear your sunscreen. You’re not like me, you’ll burn right up in this heat.”

Right, yes, because the last thing he needs is a vicious sunburn and a weird shorts tan to impress the love of his life’s grandmother and a bunch of eighty year olds.

“If we have any bigger jobs to do throughout the summer, I can get my grandson”— _HUH??_ — “to come in and help you out.”

“N-no need to call him in!” Keith’s mouth is moving on it’s own because he’s sure he’s having a brain aneurysm right now. What did she mean _Lance_ was coming here?

Nope. No way. There had to be a way for him to get out of this. Maybe he could beg Mr. Nolan to switch jobs or something. Keith would be great at picking up trash on the side of the highway and—

“Don’t worry,” Her voice is so earnest that Keith could cry. There she goes holding his very limp, sweaty hand again. “You’ll do just fine around here. We all really appreciate you being here so just relax, alright _querido_?”

Keith’s voice struggles to sound anything but dejected. “ _Yes ma’am._ ”

“And don’t call me ma’am!” She perks up suddenly, making him jump. This time she swats his arm with her clipboard. “Claudia is just fine, don’t make me feel any older.”

—————

By the end of his first week, Keith’s arms are sore from all the dirt shoveling and he’s certain at least three of the old women have got a thing for him. They’ll bring him treats during his lunch break and send him home with arms full of freshly harvested vegetables. Back home Shiro thinks he’s been picked up by a sugar mama because of his “dashing teenage looks”— Keith hasn’t corrected him yet. He won't admit this to anyone, but he likes it best when old Miss Shawna calls him over to sit and talk with her while she tends to her garden bed. He was her favorite because she liked to talk shit about everyone else’s scrawny tomato plants.

To his surprise he’d quickly fallen into a rhythm working for Claudia and the other gardeners. He didn’t mind the hard work, the sun felt good, and he came home tired enough to fall straight to sleep most days. He’d even fought back his nerves enough to talk with Claudia on a regular basis, the two sharing jokes and gossiping about the town and the other gardeners.

This particular Wednesday however, was far from the routine. Claudia called him early before his shift and asked him to come in— that it was an _emergency_.

When Keith walks in that morning, it's nothing but complete chaos. Crops and dirt are strewn everywhere, trellises are knocked over, tiny seedlings are uprooted— the place looks like it’s been through a drive by.

Claudia has her back turned to him when he walks up.

“ _Coño!_ Those damn raccoons got in here again!” She curses. Keith learned this one quickly during his first week— the older Cuban woman was not one to mess with when she got angry. An incident with some stray squirrels and well—

This time he’s glad he’s not on the receiving end. R.I.P. to those raccoons, though.

“...Morning Claudia,” He says hesitantly, “uh, looks like you’ll be needing me to come in more this week?” He looks out at the plot again and grimaces.

Claudia looks up at him with an apologetic expression and sighs, “Oh Keith, if you could that would be so helpful.” She stands with a hand on her hip, “I don’t know how the hell they keep getting through that gate! And in the middle of the season, the girls are going to be devastated…”

Keith slowly nods in agreement. He nudges at the half eaten tomato at his foot and feels a little uneasy.

“I already called my grandson to come in and help us clean up. I doubt we’ll be able to get it all done before the ladies come in, but-” Keith feels something in his chest pinch.

And then it starts. The prickling sweat at his armpits and at the back of his neck. The tips of his ears going hot. His breath coming in shallow. He’s already missed half of what Claudia said to him in the last 30 seconds and if he makes eye contact now then she’ll definitely think something is wrong and—

“I’ll do _whateverIcantohelp_!” That last part comes out in a rush. His face is set in a smile, but the mental screaming says otherwise.

She gives him a smile and rests her hand on his shoulder, “Thank you, querido.”

_Oh, boy._

Keith’s been clearing up soil and stray leaves for at least ten minutes straight, trying to calm his _weird fucking breathing_ when he hears a new voice pipe up over the Spanish music Claudia’s blaring over the loudspeakers.

“ _Abuelita_ isn’t it too early to be dancing?” The voice says with a yawn. It’s loud but sounds heavy with sleep still. “What’s the emergency anyway?”

_Okay. Here we go. Get it to-fucking-gether, Kogane._

Keith looks over his shoulder as the tall boy strolls in, stretching his arms above his head as he takes in the mess around him.

Keith goes fond a little when he sees the resemblance, watching as Claudia slaps the teen’s arm, but giggling when he tries to pull her into a cha cha step.

And then the dread sets in. He remembers that he’s here, on his knees in the dirt with his hair in a ridiculous high bun, pink gardening gloves on(they were the only ones he could find), and in this snot green apron. _Fuck_. Maybe if he just doesn’t make eye contact—

“Keith! Come meet my grandson!”

They’re saying something in Spanish when Keith drags his way over to them. Any of the brain cells he has left completely abandon him and his poor attempt at translating with his year and a half knowledge of ‘American Public School’ Spanish. He’s pretty sure he’s about puke right now. _Dear god, please don’t let me puke in front of Lance McClain_.

He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat and wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. But then he remembers he’s wearing gloves and glances down at the now dirt covered denim. Jesus Christ.

Community Garden Keith and School Keith were two very different people. And with Lance here, School Keith came back with a vengeous hellbent on making a fool of himself.

Keith is sure his heart stops for almost a minute when Lance quirks his head at him.

He sizes him up and squints his eyes a little. Keith’s brain is screaming. _Yes, hi, hello, it’s me Keith Kogane and I’ve been in love with you for 3 years now, if you could just kindly leave me here to die because you actually looked at me for once I would gladly appreciate it and_ —

“Don’t I know you from somewhere, dude?”

That knocks the breath clean out of him.

“Uh, yeah. _Keith_. She just yelled it across the entire lot. Um, anyway, I think we go to school together—”

“Right! Aren’t you on the volleyball team with Jacob?”

“Ye—”

“Lance!” Claudia cuts in. ”Why didn’t you tell me you knew Keith! He’s been working hard here this summer, maybe you can learn something from him. Not lazy like you!” She exclaims, giving her grandson a look that makes Keith’s face twitch.

Lance rolls his eyes and shoots Keith a look that makes him wish he was anywhere but here. The other boy’s lips are mouthing, ‘ _Grandmas, am I right?’_

 _Yeah_ , he thinks. _Grandmas_.

——

Claudia is making them build an entire new fence. From scratch.

If nothing else, the woman is ruthless when it comes to her gardening.

They’re unloading plywood and fencing from the back of the delivery truck when Lance grumbles,

“Man, do you know how many freakin’ fences I’ve built since she took over this damn job?”

Keith tries not to jump at the break in silence, tries not to piss himself at the fact that _Lance McClain_ is actually speaking to him. Instead of answering, he pauses to watch the way Lance maneuvers the roll of chain link fence so that it doesn’t get caught on his shirt like Keith has been doing all morning. Keith’s been sneaking glances at him all day, savoring the way his curls flop over his forehead at just the perfect angle, the way his biceps kind of flex when he lifts up a particularly large stack of plywood. The way he—

 _Alright, slow down there, Kogane_.

“Why’d you start working here anyway?” Lance asks him suddenly.

“Oh, uh, Nolan signed me up for community service.” Too short. He sounds like a freakin’ robot. What is wrong with him? Why the hell couldn’t he stop being so awkward for once in his life?

“Ahh,” Lance hums along knowingly. “Been there.”

“..Y-yeah..”

Lance hops up to stand on the flatbed truck. “Well you lucked out ‘cause my grandma is great,” he says from above. “Plus we can hang since building this thing will take all summer.”

Keith nearly swoons at the way he says it, with the sun making him glow like he stepped out of a damn magazine and— wait. Wait, _what_?!

Of _course_ it’d take more than a day to build whatever monstrous plans Claudia had. Which meant— _Lance would be coming back_. _Every day_. _Until the fence was built_. _And he wanted to hang out with him._

The thought makes Keith’s inhale a little more sharper than the others— maybe he really did forget how to socialize with anyone that wasn’t a 65 year old woman. He looks up to see Lance staring at him and his total lack of response questioningly— oh that’s right, he hadn’t said anything for the past two minutes. _This is not how a normal conversation works, Keith!_

Maybe he was in for an even longer 30 hours than he thought.

“Yeah,” Keith says finally, trying to fight down the nervous chuckle that sounds more like a gurgle spilling out of his throat. Christ. “Let’s hang for sure.”

 _Smooth_.

**Author's Note:**

> aaand here we go! hope y'all are excited as i am to get started on this lovely little roller coaster i have planned.
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! also come say hi on [tumblr](https://studiojune.tumblr.com/)   
> or [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/studiojune2) and see chapter previews and drabbles i don't post on here!
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


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